Memento (only with hickeys instead of tattoos)
by if-it-bleeds-you-can-kiss-it
Summary: Dean's been straying lately and Sam feels the need to remind him who he belongs to. Sam/Dean, Wincest, Destiel implied (negatively), OFM


Dean woke up with a massive headache. It felt like a truck had hit his ass, and his back hurt like a motherfucker. He remembered going to the bar last night, but he had only had one drink. It was pretty much blank after that.

He rolled over to tell his brother to shut the blinds but he found himself in an empty bed. Dean sprang up reaching for the demon knife under his pillow but it was gone. He panicked, looking around the room for the knife or any sign of a struggle. Clothes were thrown all over the room like someone had been digging through their duffle bags. He found the knife on a slightly bloody kitchen table; he grabbed it and flung the door open.

He ran outside and saw the impala was gone. He took a deep breath realizing Sam was probably just getting coffee; he lowered the knife and saw he was wearing just boxers, so he hurried back to the door.

Dean noticed the pretty blonde girl working the front desk gaping at him and blushing. She was probably appreciating the hard muscle of his shirtless figure. He winked, emanating his Dean Winchester charm, then shivered unpleasantly, regretting the action for some reason. He walked back in to the room, feeling unsettled at flirting with the girl.

He went in to the motel's disgusting bathroom to brush his teeth, looked in the mirror and gasped at his reflection, some of the night came back to him. He realized why the woman was staring at him.

Suddenly he remembered. "Like the goddamn Memento guy with the tattoos," he muttered.

Last night he had gone to the local bar to take a load off after killing a particularly resilient nest of vampires. Sam was sleeping, tired from the hunt so Dean quietly slipped out walking the short distance to the seedy bar.

He sat down and ordered a drink, scoping out the bar looking for potential suckers to hustle money out of.

Instead he saw a true American beauty making her way towards him. She had long blonde hair and a rack right out of a playboy centerfold. She was wearing daisy dukes and cowboy boots, Dean's favorite outfit. She sat down next to him at the bar.

"I'll have what he's having," she said in a sweet voice to the bartender.

"Hold on baby, you sure you can handle this?" Dean asked pointing to his drink.

She batted her eyelashes and laughed lightly, grabbing his glass and downing it. Her drink came.

"He'll be paying for this," She told the bartender.

He snorted, "No way in hell, sweetheart."

She leaned in giving Dean a great view of her rack in her low cut shirt.

'You talk a big game, but I don't think you can back it up," She said running her hand up the inside of his denim covered thigh.

"Haven't seen a piece of ass like you come through this town in a long time," She whispered into his ear. She smelled like whiskey and daisies.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on there, sweetheart," Dean said removing her hand from his thigh, "This piece of ass is spoken for."

"Don't see her anywhere," She said leaning even closer, Dean's hand was still holding hers.

"Well-" Dean was cut off by the girl who straddled his lap, her obscenely short shorts rubbing against Dean.

This happened to be the exact moment that Sam Winchester decided to walk in to the bar.

Dean didn't see it happen it was so fast. He blinked and a tall figure had a large hand tangled in the girl's hair tugging it back exposing her neck.

"Gonna fuck this slut Dean?"

"Sam I-"

"No go ahead look at her tits, like a goddamn porn star, bet those fat lips give great blow jobs, you could probably take her into the bathroom right now, bet she wouldn't say no to the hottest stranger to ever walk into this bar."

The girl made a sound of protest and Sam let her head go. Sam turned to her,

"Bet you'd let him fuck your pussy all night wouldn't you? Probably already wet thinking about it. Look at that face, hottest thing you've ever seen isn't it?"

The girl nodded and gyrated on top of Dean, letting a moan escape from her lips.

Dean was stunned, his dick starting to take interest in the friction on his groin and Sam's filthy talk was low and wet in his ear.

"But Sammy-" Dean started finally tearing himself away from the girl to look at his brother's surprisingly cold hazel eyes.

"No it's fine Dean. I'll see you later," Sam said getting up to leave. It took Dean a moment to realize that his brother was leaving him in a disgusting bar with a slut practically fucking herself on his lap. When Dean registered what was happening he stood up quickly dumping the bitch on the floor, she protested but Dean ran to catch Sam who was just outside the door.

"Sam! Please Sam-" Dean was cut off by Sam slamming him against the wall of the bar. A few people walking by turned to look but Sam growled at them and they quickly continued on their way.

Dean looked at Sam. 4 inches taller than him; his hair tousled from sleep, hazel eyes dark and dangerous. Sam was breathing heavily and giving Dean the look he had given the vampire today, right before he chopped its head off with a machete.

Dean shivered, anxious to see what he was going to do next.

Dean was pinned to the brick wall by Sam's giant hands, pushing his shoulders back. "Sam I'm sorry, I just-" Sam shut Dean up by tugging his short hair exposing his neck and biting him. Hard. Dean felt blood trickling down his neck. Sam licked his lips tasting the copper, and smiled, teeth covered in it. Dean shivered both repulsed and turned on at the same time, his half boner from Sam's dirty talk now taking more interest and pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.

"I think you need to learn a lesson," Sam growled into Dean's ear. Was this turning him on? His sex life with Sam wasn't exactly vanilla but Sam had never treated him like this before.

"Sammy!" Dean pleaded, his dick angry and begging to be touched, but it didn't seem like Sam was going to do anything about it.

"Shut up, slut," Sam picked Dean up and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Dean was surprised by his brother's strength, lifting him like a sack of potatoes. People watched, gaping at the large man carrying a full grown man like he weighed nothing.

"Probably wish they were me Dean. Probably want to take you home and fuck you hard," Dean whimpered against Sam's chest.

When they had walked across the parking lot to the motel Sam kicked open the door not even bothering to grab the knob. Dean was expecting to be thrown down on the bed but instead found himself hitting the wooden table, Sam simply dropping him onto the hard surface.

Sam leaned over, putting his massive hands on either side of his older brother's head. Dean was terrified and turned on beyond belief.

"Need to show them you're mine Dean. Need to remind you who you belong to. No one's ever gonna touch you again. Never gonna come unless I let you. Not even touching yourself. You're gonna ask permission to come, beg me to come. And maybe if I'm in a good mood I'll let you. Next thing, every morning you're going to suck my cock. I don't care if you're still sleeping you can wake up choking on my cock and you're gonna let me fuck your mouth. You will never look at anyone else again, you will never flirt with anyone else again."

Dean simply gave Sam a shocked stare, he had lost grip on the English language somewhere around being slammed on the table.

"One more thing, you do what I tell you. If I want you to drop to your knees in the middle of the parking lot you do it. If I want to fuck you over the pool table you were hustling on, you pull your pants down with a smile on your face and you say 'Yes sir!' Got it Dean?" Sam asked harshly, "Answer me!" He commanded.

"Yeah I got it, Sam."

"I got it what?"

"I understand, _Sir_."

"Good Dean," Sam said gently caressing Dean's freckled face with his thumb. "So fucking beautiful like this." Sam surveyed Deans figure stretched across the table panting, lips swollen and red from the kissing. Bruises were already appearing where Sam and pinned his shoulders and an angry red mark where Sam had bit him.

"Take off your clothes, Dean."

Dean shivered at the command in Sammy's voice and removed his clothes throwing them haphazardly on the ground his boots thrown to the opposite side of the room.

Sam had never looked more like John, staring down at him with evil in his eye. Dean remembered his father giving him the same command and look. He hardened even more at the memory of being pressed against the wall by his father. Not that we would ever tell Sammy, no need to give Sam another reason to hate John (especially now that little Sammy didn't seem to be anywhere in his sex demon of a brother). That thought made Dean nervous and realized how stupid he had been.

"Christo!" He yelled in the face of the bastard possessing his brother.

Sam looked Dean straight in the eye, his hazel ones never turning even a little black.

"Oh Dean if only," Sam chuckled, "Does it get you that hard?" He pointed at Dean's cock; the evidence undeniable.

"Do you wish I was a demon? Does that turn you on?" Sam or whatever possessed him hissed in his ear.

"Prove it!" Dean yelled, still refusing to believe Sammy could ever get this possessive.

Sam or whatever, walked to the bed and pulled the demon knife from its hiding place under Dean's pillow, just incase. He took long strides back to Dean. He held his arm over Dean and cut it slowly, showing his brother the blood seeping from the wound. It dripped onto Dean's chest. "Sam" smiled a sadistic smile that almost made Dean come right then and there. The blood trickled across hard muscle and pooled into Dean's navel, proof this monster was 100% his brother.

It reminded Sam of his demon blood days and he was tempted to lick across his brother's beautiful body, and that's exactly what he did, cleaning Dean's body of his blood. It tasted like copper and sweat and cologne and love. Dean whimpered at his brother's tongue pressed flat against his body, licking him in long strokes and willing it to go a few inches lower.

"Sammy that looks kinda deep maybe I should patch it up," Dean said nervously looking at the deep cut in Sam's muscular arm. Sam reached down grabbing Dean's t-shirt from the ground and easily ripped a strip off, skillfully wrapping it around the cut on his forearm like he had hundreds of times. Then he leaned down and pinched Dean's nipple excruciatingly hard. Dean yelped, surprised at the sudden pain.

"Did I say you could call me Sammy, Dean? What the fuck did I just tell you to call me?"

"Sorry Sir! It won't happen again Sir!" Dean cried. Sam released the pressure on Dean's nipple.

"I hope this cut scars Dean," Sam said tugging on the material wrapped around his arm. "Then people will know what I do for you. They'll know how much I love you."

Dean smiled brightly at this glimpse of his little brother. But he saw the shadow of domination pass over Sam's face again. Dean didn't know if he should be scared or smile brighter, because he was apprehensively excited at what Sam's next move would be.

"Maybe I should do something to you. Paint a picture of what you do for me because you love me. Me and no one else." Dean's smile faltered, but pre-come started dripping from his cock so Sam continued. He picked up the hunting knife from where it had been laying next to Dean's head.

He twirled it gripping the worn wooden handle, tracing the runes across the blade. It was still glistening with his blood on the jagged edge. He ran it lightly from Dean's neck to his navel, tracing his rib's and stopping to twirl it around the tattoo.

Dean squirmed waiting for a cut, waiting for Sam to dig into his smooth skin, free of scars and faults after being dragged back from Hell. Dean moaned when Sam pressed into the raised handprint on his upper arm. It was a sensitive spot, proof of his time in hell and how Cas had gripped him tight blah blah perdition. It was also permanently bruised because Cas' strong hands had pressed against it during climax so many times, yelling "Dean!" at the top of his lungs and gripped the print like he was raising him from perdition all over again.

Sam dug the knifepoint in to the middle of the print drawing a drop of blood, leaving his own mark where Castiel had tattooed Dean. The older hunter was silently relieved when Sam continued along his body. He guessed jealous Sam probably wouldn't take too kindly to Castiel's claim on his body. Especially when it had been grabbed so many times during orgasm.

Sam remembered where all of Dean's scars had been before the angel had rebuilt him; rugaroo on his left pectoral, vengeful spirit across his rib cage, vampire bite on his hip. Sam was tempted to cut them all back, to remind Dean of all the time they spent together. Sam was his younger brother and had always come first and wanted Dean to remember it. He was sick of the older hunter straying and wanted a way to shorten Dean's leash. But Sam knew this wasn't the way to do it. He didn't want to scare Dean, just show him that there were consequences to his actions.

Dean knew the spots where Sam was pressing. The rugaroo, the ghost, the vampire, he wanted to kiss Sam and tell him it would only be them from now on, no more sluts or angels, but he didn't think now was the time to stand, so he stayed stretched across the table, hardwood digging against his shoulder blades.

Sam swirled the cold blade against Dean's nipple, Dean bit his lip refraining from screaming at Sam to let him come already.

Sam knew Dean was getting restless and put the knife down.

"I think I have another idea of how to show people you're mine."

Sam leaned down and bit into Dean's skin. Hard. And sucked at it, Dean could already tell this was going to be one hell of a hickey. Sam continued making a nonsensical pattern across Dean's chest. Dean lost track of time caught in the feel of his brother's warm mouth digging into his skin, he could do something about his painfully hard dick but he was too afraid of Sam to even try.

Eventually Sam stood up to inspect his work and deciding it was satisfactory, he shucked his clothing, he was sporting a boner matching Dean's.

He then shoved three fingers into Dean's mouth. Dean came back to earth choking on Sam's massive fingers. He realized where Sam was going with this and started sucking like his life depended on it.

"That's it Dean suck harder only lube you're gonna get."

"Yessir," Dean said as well as he could with a mouthful of Sam.

Sam smiled at the submission Dean was showing and at the vibration through his fingers.

Dean shivered at the thought of Sam's dicking stretching him open roughly. He'd never done it without lube before, and Sam was the only person he let fuck him without a condom. Well and Cas, but that wasn't so much about trust as much as angels of the lord can't really get STI's, and it's not like he could get pregnant. But no fucking way he was gonna tell Sam that.

"That's enough," Sam said pulling his fingers out of Dean's swollen mouth roughly. He pushed Dean's legs apart and put the right one over his shoulder, leaving Dean completely exposed. He licked his lips and shoved all three fingers in Dean at once holding the green eyed gaze the whole time. Dean nearly screamed, not prepared for all the fingers at once. It hurt like a motherfucker and Dean nearly passed out but Sam pressed hard against the handprint on his shoulder. Dean nearly came right there at his brother touching the sensitive spot that had previously been just between him and Cas. It was almost comical how much bigger Sam's hand was, it eclipsed the print leaving a mark that was all Sam.

Dean loosened when Sam pressed his hand against that fucking print. Sam fucked Dean with his fingers shoving them in and out prepping him. Once Dean was loose enough to take all three without much resistance, he dragged him closer, his back rubbing against the wood. Sam grabbed Dean's leg, one still resting on his broad shoulder and hooked the other around the larger man's waist.

Sam drove in to Dean. Hard. Dean bit his lip bloody so he wouldn't scream loud enough for someone in the motel to call the police and report a murder next door.

Sam pulled out almost completely and slammed back into him picking up the pace, gripping Dean's waist to keep him pinned to the table.

"Like this Dean? Me fucking your tight little hole?"

"Yessir," Dean moaned.

Sam hit his brother's prostrate with enough force to make him see stars. Dean made a noise that he would deny for the rest of his life.

Dean knew the wood was scratching at his back, but he couldn't feel anything but pleasure. They had never fucked like this before and Dean started to think he had a pain kink. Maybe he would make Sam jealous more often.

Sam draped himself over his brother still driving into him like a jackhammer but he kissed Dean tenderly. The contrast nearly made the older hunter blow. Sam wrapped a hand around Dean's neglected prick and started to tug in time to his thrusts, running a thumbnail along the sensitive vain.

"Come for me Dean," He whispered in filthily in the older hunter's ear.

Dean didn't have to be told twice, he came the hardest he ever had. For Sam. All for Sam.

Dean nearly passed out with how hard he came. He lay limp on the table, heavy lidded, while Sam continued to drive in to him.

"So good for me Dean," Sam panted. Dean gave him a blissed out smile, and ran a finger through the come on his chest. Sam gave him a hungry look, and Dean sucked his finger like it was a dick. Just seeing the cum dripping from Dean's pillowed lips was what did it for Sam. He came inside Dean with a moan.

Sam pulled out and leaned over Dean his tanned arms propped on either side of his brother's head.

Sam gently kissed along the mark he made, bruises already darkening on his brother's freckled skin.

"Love you Sammy," Dean whispered half asleep on the table. Dean vaguely remembered Sam wiping him off, putting his boxers on for him, and laying him gently on the bed.

"Love you too Dean," Sam whispered and curled around his older brother.

Dean heard the jingle of keys and the door being unlocked. He stomped out of the bathroom towards his brother who was setting coffee and breakfast down on the table.

"Sam, look what you did!" The S-A-M was a prominent purple on Dean's chest.

Sam gave Dean a guilty look but he continued, "The lady at the desk nearly had a heart attack when she saw it!"

"She saw you in just your boxers?" Sam asked coolly, but the evil spark in his eye was back, "I thought you learned your lesson last night."

"Shit," Dean said right before Sam yanked him into a bruising kiss.

"I think it's time for my daily blow job, Dean," Sam said, breaking the kiss.

"Alright Sammy, but can I have breakfast first?"

"Yeah. But you might not want to eat it on the table," Sam said staring at the stains on the wood.

"Oh yeah," Dean snorted "How about we use the bed next time?"

"Yeah okay," Sam laughed. "Maybe we can take it easier tonight," Sam said rubbing Dean's scratched up shoulders, "You look like you could use a rest."

"I didn't say that," Dean winked at his brother and turning back to the food, "Where's the pie Sammy?"

Sam didn't hear his brother's complaints he was already thinking of new ways to claim Dean tonight.


End file.
